Like Father, Like Son
by TimeMistressAquaKlaroline4ever
Summary: Eve isn't who she seems, and the events of her night with Malcolm may be what finally pushes him over the edge.


**A/N: So sorry about how it looked before. I don't know what happened.**

**This is entirely speculation on Eve's identity, sparked by the preview for the next episode. A theory that popped into my mind after a discussion with another author on here and I decided to write about it. It'll probably be entirely AU, but we'll see what happens.**

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She had come at him, her face a cold mask of determination and vengeance burning in her eyes like fire. The twisted, broken smile, the golden charm bracelet clinking softly on her wrist. One of his own swords clutched in a shaking hand. The tip dragged across the wood floor as she slowly approached his bed, where he was sitting, staring in hurt, confusion, shock, and a nagging suspicion that had his heart pounding in his bruised and bandaged rib cage.

"Who are you?" he had asked.

A soft sardonic chuckle, humorless and dry. "You're the profiler. Why don't you tell me?" she hissed quietly.

He began to tremble like a leaf, not from fear of her, but of the truth that seemed about to reveal itself to him. He slowly stood and raised his hands in surrender, trying to keep her calm so they could talk. "Th-The girl... the one in the trunk... you knew her didn't you?" he murmured.

Hatred flared behind the glare she gave him. Oh if looks could kill. "She was my sister!" she yelled, all composer shattering as she lunged at him. Reflexively he caught her wrists to pin them in place, turning her so her back was against his thin quivering frame. He held her tight despite the pain it caused his still battered body. She struggled against him, sword still clutched in her hand as she tried to turn it on him. "I'm so, so sorry Eve. For what my father took from you. I wish I could remember what happened. I wish I could offer you closure." he said sadly, in barely more than a whisper.

She shook her head, a mad chuckle escaping her lips, the sound of someone who'd given up, someone who was broken beyond repair. He knew that sound all too well. "But you can't Malcolm, don't you see that? All that's left is to return the favor. To take something precious from your dad like he took from me. If a monster like that can even care for anything." she whispered, before ripping herself free and raising the sword.

There was a quick but violent struggle, which ended suddenly with a thud of a body hitting the floor and the sickening sound of a blade sinking into flesh and bone. Only a soft, sharp gasp broke the deathly silence that had descended in the darkened room, even Sunshine the bird not twittering as he usually would.

Blue eyes met blue for a moment, both reflecting the other's fear and surprise. Malcolm slowly looked down at where his hands lay over Eve's, which were still around the hilt of the sword. The blade had buried itself deep in her chest, scraping bone and the hard floor beneath her. His tremors intensified tenfold as her blood started to pool around her wound and seeped through their joined fingers.

"No, no, no...! Stay with me Eve! I'm so sorry... I didn't mean... this was an accident... please don't die! You'll be okay... I'll call an ambulance! You'll be fine..." he said hysterically, trying to convince himself more than her. He wished he could remove the sword, but that could do a lot more harm than good. Instead he fumbled in his pocket for his phone, dropping it from the violent trembling rippling through him and the blood coating his fingers making it too slick to hold.

Flashbacks assaulted his mind, his father crouched behind him with a grin as his hands guided a young Malcolm's, holding the switch blade he had asked for, coaching him through where to plunge the knife into the flesh of the prone figure of a young woman in front of them. What had he done back then? What did he do now? There would be no running this time. He had no one to blame but himself.

He was pulled from his spiraling thoughts when Eve's clammy, too cold hands clutched his with surprising strength. He cautiously met her eyes again, the light in them, though starting to fade, still sparking with fierce resolve. "It's okay. I'll be with my sister again. But Malcolm, if the good I saw in you was real, you'll turn yourself in." she murmured. His breaths turned into jagged heaves, tears pricking in his eyes.

She coughed roughly, blood speckling her lips and splattering his night shirt. She shook her head slightly and hoarsely continued, causing cracks to form in his already fragile psyche with every word, "I think you don't remember what happened because it's easier not knowing... easier to blame everything on your dad... but you have to consider that it might not have been him that took her life in the end." she whispered.

She lifted a hand weakly to place on his cheek. "You poor boy... he broke you too didn't he? He made you a monster like him. Or maybe there's hope for you yet... so prove him wrong... prove me wrong, if you can. Bring her justice... then do what's right. You owe it to me, to her, to the world. I forgive you... but there's no washing the blood off your hands. You'll have to live with that forever."

Malcolm was slowly rocking back and forth by this point as he watched her eyes slip shut, her hand falling to her side. With her last breath she delivered the barely audible words that shattered him into a million tiny pieces.

"Like father, like son."

**So there's the first chapter everyone! I doubt anyone would talk that much as they're dying, but it makes for good drama. Hope you all enjoyed it. I haven't written in a while, and this is my first time writing for this fandom.**


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